


Pas de Deux (how Peter deals with divorced life, kids, their problems, bucky’s hot uncle and wade)

by coveryourheads (rsk110)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Divorce, Kid Fic, M/M, Past minor character death, pre-slash stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsk110/pseuds/coveryourheads
Summary: “I’m getting a divorce,” Steve announces loudly, too large schoolbag hanging lower than usual over his thin shoulders.Peter sprays the water he’d been in the middle of swallowing all over the tabletop, barely missing his grade book and stacks of papers. Pointedly ignoring Natasha's grossed out expression, he coughs for three minutes straight. It is not a statement he’d been prepared for to hear from either of his children, for at least another twenty years.“Excuse me?”Steve has seated himself in the chair across the kitchen table with a glass of apple juice and a handful of graham crackers. Steve shrugs. He repeats slowly, “I am getting a divorce.”---For Spideypool Prompt Bang 2018.Don't let the silly title fool you. This is a very serious work of fiction. xD





	Pas de Deux (how Peter deals with divorced life, kids, their problems, bucky’s hot uncle and wade)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! So I when I signed up for Spideypool Prompt Bang, I picked out what I felt were the "most challenging" prompts. And what do you know, I got assigned with the one prompt I really had no idea what I could possibly do with it. Nonetheless, I wrote... This.
> 
>  **Prompt:** “I’ll have you know I’ve been knowingly avoiding my responsibilities.”  
>  “I can’t tell if I’m happy or upset at that. All I know is that you’ve managed to elicit a strong emotion with those two words.”
> 
>  **A/N:** Steve and Natasha are Peter and Wade's adopted children. Peter and Wade have been divorced for about a year at the beginning of the story. A lot of the Avengers characters are kids because I am unoriginal. o/c names came from coke bottles. :P 
> 
> Some kid's drama.
> 
> No one is evil. Nothing seriously bad happens. 
> 
> If it reads like the ending has been rushed, is because it was. xD  
> \-- Or I would like to think that it's been left open to possibilities. Hahahaha.

Pas de Deux (how Peter deals with divorced life, kids, their problems, bucky’s hot uncle and wade)

 

“I’m getting a divorce,” Steve announces loudly, too large schoolbag hanging lower than usual over his thin shoulders.

Peter sprays the water he’d been in the middle of swallowing all over the tabletop, barely missing his grade book and stacks of papers. Pointedly ignoring Natasha's grossed out expression, he coughs for three minutes straight. It is not a statement he’d been prepared for to hear from either of his children, for at least another twenty years.

“Excuse me?”

Steve has seated himself in the chair across the kitchen table with a glass of apple juice (“No, I don’t want juice in boxes anymore, Dad. I’m _seven_.”) and a handful of graham crackers. Steve shrugs. He repeats slowly, “I am getting a _divorce_.”

“Honey, to get a divorce, you’d have to be married,” Peter still sounds a bit choked off.

Steve hands three crackers to Natasha, who is demanding juice, too. Peter stands to grab a box from the cabinet and more crackers. Steve shrugs again and doesn’t elaborate.

“Who, um, are you going to divorce?”

“Bucky.”

“When was the wedding and why wasn’t I invited?”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“We didn’t _actually_ get married, Dad. It was a _pretend_ wedding at recess last week.”

Peter looks down at the stack of papers in his hands that he has to finish grading before the kids have to go to their lessons. Steve has been taking Karate lessons for the past year (Wade’s idea, big surprise there) and Nat just started a few months ago after her fourth birthday (at her absolute, unwavering insistence). It beats having to hustle one kid to one place and then race to get to another (Steve had soccer in the fall with Nat at ballet on Wednesdays, it was hellish to drive back and forth).

“So why do you want to get a _pretend_ divorce?”

Steve shrugs again. Nat makes grabby hands and repeats ‘Daddy’ until Peter slides the bowl of crackers to where she can reach from her chair. Peter barely contains a smile when she stuffs a fistful into her tiny mouth.

“Bucky and Tony had a fight.”

Peter corrects the formula work and takes off half a point in red pen. He’ll never understand how the answer is correct, but the work is completely wrong for most of his students. He makes a mental note to talk to Reed about that tomorrow. Peter knows his son and daughter well. He just has to wait patiently for Steve to open up, show him that he’s listening and that he’ll listen to whatever he has to say, whenever.

“Why did they fight about?” Natasha asks her brother. Her tiny lisp still remains, but Peter doesn’t worry about it. “I had a fight with Wanda. But we shook hands after. And she gave me a hug. And I hugged her back!”

“That’s sweet, honey. Finish your juice.”

Steve huffs and blows air out. He’s fiddling with the bear-shaped cracker in his fingers, making it do cartwheels over the table top.

“Tony wanted to play kickball at recess and… and picked me and not Bucky for his team. And Bucky got picked to play on the other team by Alex from 2-B class. But I wanted Bucky on _our_ team ‘cause he’s tall and he can kick real far and run real fast. But he was already picked to be in Alex’s team, so I didn’t make a big _deal_.” Steve pauses to take a deep breath, momentarily causing Peter to worry if he should grab his son’s inhaler. “And our team was losing but I was on second base and Sam, remember Sam, Dad? Yeah, so, Sam kicks the ball real high that _no one_ catches, and I ran home, and Sam made a home-run.”

“Wow!” Natasha supplies, fascinated by her brother’s story. Peter isn’t sure if she understands kickball rules yet, but she seems enthralled.

“And then Maria scored again. And we won. Only ‘cause the bell rang and we had to go back to class.”

“So, Tony and James had a fight about the game?”

“No. Well, yeah, I guess. When we were in line to go back to class, before Mr. Nick came out to get us, Tony was saying that he is the best because he picked the best team and Bucky was mad because he said that it was just a _kickball_ game and it wasn’t like he wanted to be in Alex’s team anyway. He was just _playing_ a game and trying his best.”

“Huh.” Peter’s brows knit together in confusion. James, or Bucky, he likes to be called (“Only by my _best_ friend. _You_ can call me James, Mr. Parker-Wilson.”), is almost a whole year older than Steve, because he had been held back a year after his army-officer father moved them around all over the country. So, James is a bit bigger and smarter and more “mature” than his classmates. Peter is having a hard time understanding how James is wrong about his opinion on recess kickball.

Steve flicks the bear cracker across the table. It stops just before the edge of the table. Peter catches it before it falls and tosses it into his mouth. Peter takes back the bowl from Natasha in pretense of snacking, so she doesn’t try cracker football as well. But she hadn’t seen, thank goodness, after becoming bored of the story and having gone back to coloring in her new book.

“And then at lunch, Tony said I was his best friend and people are supposed to have only _one_ best friend, so I can’t have Bucky as my best friend, too. And I said Bucky is my _husband_ but he’s _also_ my best friend and I can have as many best friends as I want because Sam is also my best friend. And you have Uncle Johnny and Uncle Reed and Auntie Sue and Uncle Ben, and Auntie Gwen and Auntie Mary-Jane.”

“Yes. You can have as many friends as you want, and as many best friends as you want, honey. You don’t have to choose.”

“My best friend is Wanda. And Pietro. Because Pietro is Wanda’s _twin_ brother. He’s okay. There’s a new boy in class I want to be friends with, too. His name is Clint. Clint can make birdy sounds with his mouth. But he only plays with Scott.” Natasha pouts. Peter doesn’t know how to handle two “friend” problems from both his children at the same time. He sighs internally.

“You can talk to him? Share your snack?” He promises to pack an extra snack pack for her tomorrow to share with her new friend.

“I need to have a-nother one for Scott, too, Daddy.”

“Sure, honey. We might have to stop by the grocery store after Karate class, then.”

Natasha is delighted. She loves the grocery store. Steve tolerates it because he gets to make choices on snack foods or lunch ingredients, now. Peter suspects he secretly likes shopping, but he’s rather play the stoic seven-year-old than the enthusiastic toddler he’d been. Peter likes to let his kids be, as long as they’re happy and healthy.

“Tony said…” Steve rubs his nose aggressively. “Tony said, we’re not really married anyway. And I said I know. And then Bucky just said… He doesn’t care if he’s not my best friend _or_ my husband and he went to sit with _Alex_ and he’s been sitting with _Alex_ since Monday.”

“Oh.” Peter doesn’t know what to say. Steve’s face is blotchy now, just thinking about it, and he looks like he’ll burst into tears. It’s such an adult-like problem, he can’t think about how to provide his son with an answer that’ll help. Peter wants to send a text message to Susie, get her advice, because he’s at a loss and she’s a great parent.

His phone dings, to prepare them to leave for Karate class. Natasha shrieks gleefully and races off to grab her kit from her room. Steve sighs.

“It’s _Thursday_ , Dad. Bucky is going to be at Karate.”

James is a blue belt, grouped off with mostly eight and nine-year old’s. Steve is still a yellow belt. Thursdays are usually Steve’s favorite because the two classes share the large 'dojo' (which doubles as a basketball court on the weekends), and he hangs out with James afterwards for as long as they can get away. Today, it takes some coaxing to get him ready to go. Peter makes sure to pack Steve’s inhaler in his canvas bag. It feels like it’ll be one of those days.

It’s easy to get Natasha situated in her car-seat when she’s excited to get going. Steve dutifully snaps his seatbelt in. Peter combs his golden hair back from his brows, giving him a peck over his temple. He wants to tell him that it’s not the end of the world and that Bucky will come around eventually. But he decides to not say anything just yet, until he’s sure the problem has not, and will not, escalate. He wants to know James’ side of the story, too. James has attachment issues due to the constant moving, although his parents don’t address it at all. He lets Natasha fill the silence in the car.

And then the car Bluetooth goes off with a call. Peter groans.

Natasha, who can _read_ now, squeals at the sight of the name that pops up on his touchscreen. Peter presses the answer button, wincing to himself at the simultaneous scream of “Daddy!” and the car speaker booming, “Baby Girl!” (He’d had the volume up while talking to Aunt May this afternoon before picking up Natasha. She always sounds so far away.) Peter turns the dial to “un-deafening”.

“Daddy, Daddy!”

“Hi Baby Girl.”

“Guess where I’m going!”

“Huh. Let me see. Are you going to… The Moon?”

“No!”

“To… Uranus?”

“No!” She giggles happily.

“To… _Asgard_?”

“We’re going to Karate class, Dad.” Peter can hear the eye roll in Steve's voice.

“Hey, Stevie! How’re you doing, kid?”

In Peter’s rearview, Steve shrugs, knowing well that Wade can’t see.

“We’re going to Karate, Daddy!” Natasha reiterates.

“That’s so wonderful, Baby Girl. And you guess what!”

“What?”

“I’ll be coming to see you, kicking some ass!”

Natasha screams something that sounds like ‘ai-yee’. Peter tries and fails to quiet her down. He turns the volume down just a little more.

“Wade— you—”

“Hi, Pete.”

Peter clears his throat. Tries to calm his heartbeat. The way Wade calls his name, Pete, Petey, Peter, still makes his heart swell and hollow at the same time, burning a mile a minute. He hates that so much.

“You can’t just do that.”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m calling. You didn’t answer my text messages.”

Peter hadn’t had the chance to check his phone before, during and after Steve’s crisis, hurrying the kids into the car, making sure they had all they (might, probably not, but just in case) need for the afternoon.

“I figured you were busy. But I missed our little ones and… I was also wondering if you guys wanted to have dinner together, after classes are over.”

“I don’t know—we’ve got to get groceries and…”

“Please, Pete?”

“Yeah, Dad! I want to dinner with Daddy!” Natasha crosses her small arms across her chest. Peter glances at her through the rearview, puffing out her cheeks. He sighs.

“What about you, honey?” Peter asks Steve.

Steve shrugs. “I guess. It might be cool to have dinner.”

Peter groans internally. The kids have missed Wade; Natasha asking for him before falling asleep, Steve’s eyes lighting up when Wade called, asking to talk to him, too.

“We’re almost at the community center, so I have to hang up.”

“Okay. I’ll see you guys soon!”

Natasha waves enthusiastically at the dashboard, even though Wade can’t see. Peter finds a space between two oversized SUVs, rolling his eyes at the narrower space they’ve created. Thanking god that his compact sedan is great for such spaces, he parks and squeezes out. Steve shimmies out, grabbing both his and Natasha’s canvas bags. Natasha needs help with the seatbelt and the tight space is not making it easier.

“Honey, you need to stop kicking.”

“But I’ll be late!”

“Honey—”

“Do you need help?” A voice disrupts his fight, and Peter almost bangs his head against the roof of the car. “Maybe I should park again? Sorry about that.”

Peter looks up at the man who’s speaking to him. Peter feels his jaw drop slightly but can’t stop it.

“Oh, no, we’re alright. My daughter just won’t stop fidgeting,” Peter explains, adding a nervous-sounding chuckle. He goes back in to tackle the seatbelt and wins, Natasha slinking out of the car.

“Daddy! Come _on_!”

“She’s eager to get to Karate, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Burns a lot of excess energy.” Peter smiles, keeping her hand in his. He finds Steve just a few feet away, standing in front of James. His fists are tight, knuckles stark-white, with a frown set.

“Steve, honey, let’s go inside.”

“Are you Steve’s father?”

“Yeah…” Peter answers, unsure. He takes the canvas bags from Steve and lets him stomp forward in front of him. James and the man fall into step beside him and Natasha. Natasha is not interested in James at all, because Steve doesn’t play with her when he’s over. Natasha’s jealousy of Steve’s friends had been cute until she’d become rude. He’s about to ask her to say hello to James when the man continues his conversation.

“I’m Eddie. Brock. Buck here is my nephew.”

“Oh. Hi. I’m, uh… Peter Parker.”

“Wilson.” Natasha says.

Eddie looks interested in what she says.

“My _Daddy’s_ name is Peter Benjamin Parker-Wilson. _My_ name is Natasha Alianovna Parker-Wilson.”

“Wow! That’s quite a mouthful. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha.” The walk to the building’s entrance is short. Peter is simultaneously wishing it were longer and much shorter. “You, too, Peter.”

“Oh, yeah. Yes.” Peter clears his throat. Steve grabs his bag from his hand, grumbling a ‘see you later, Dad’ and hurrying off towards the gym. Peter manages to say between Natasha pulling at his hand, and looking up at Eddie’s face, “Nice to meet you as well.”

James has disappeared, apparently, having run off to his classes’ half of the large dojo floor while Peter had been flustered at being spoken to by another man. A very handsome man, with kind, gray-blue eyes and naturally pouty lips that curve up into a lopsided grin, that…

“Daddy!”

“Yes, honey.”

Peter shakes his head internally. With both hands full he can’t exactly offer a handshake. So, he sends a smile at Eddie, hoping to convey that he has to go but has enjoyed the (very) brief conversation. Eddie waves at him, though, bidding Natasha to have a good time.

Peter only glances in at the gym to see if Steve has settled in. He’s got his uniform on correctly, shoes put away into his bag that’s sitting on the bleachers now. His water bottle is next to it along with his inhaler. Steve is pointedly not looking towards the other half of the gym, talking to some of his friends instead. Peter doesn’t get to find James anywhere before getting pulled away to the smaller gym at the end of the hall for four and five-year old children. Peter collapses onto one of the plastic chairs set up along the wall for parents; Natasha has been squealing and jumping up and down with Wanda (whom Peter suspects does not enjoy Karate at all, only taking the class to be with Natasha) for the past three minutes it took Peter to get Natasha’s shoes peeled off and uniform fixed correctly. He imagines all the parents in the room feel as exhausted as he is feeling, no one attempting to make small talk.

Peter pays as much attention as he can, watching the little ones forming lines, following the Sensei and the assistants in light warm-up exercises for ten minutes. They spend another ten minutes going over what they learned on Tuesday, shouting on the tops of their lungs, punching and kicking into the air. Most of them can’t manage to keep balance after each kick and stumble. Peter finds it absolutely adorable (especially Natasha) and captures some videos of it on his phone. After that, they learn some new maneuvers, reviewing in smaller groups with the assistants. After a short bathroom and watering break, the children are given permission to freely use the gym. The second half of the lesson is where they can all run around, the gym set up specifically for the age-group with padded climbing structures, four-feet tall “rock” climbing wall, very low balance beams. It’s basically running and jumping around and playing with friends and the teenage assistants. Peter wonders how much they pay per hour, dealing with this amount of hyperactivity.

Peter captures a video of Natasha and Wanda, hand in hand, cautiously side stepping across the balance beam. He wants to show Wade, who’s probably watching Steve’s class if he’d managed to show up at all. If he hadn’t, Peter is only thankful that Steve is resilient and doesn’t mind not having a parent hovering around during his lesson. (Steve had insisted it, and Peter had compromised that he’ll be at all of his soccer and baseball games whether he wants him there or not.)

After an hour and fifteen minutes, the children line up again haphazardly, standing at attention and bowing to their instructor. Peter counts it as a win that only two children had ended up in tears, (three, counting the _almost_ -tears), helping Natasha into her shoes and thanking the Sensei. He packs her things up relatively quickly, herding them towards the big dojo to see the final fifteen minutes of Steve’s class. Natasha sadly waves at Wanda, who leaves with her mother.

At the entrance of the large gym, Peter scans the bleachers. His eyes naturally find his son first, who's sitting between his friends Tony and Sam. He's biting on his thumbnail, a habit he's still working on breaking, only doing it when he's very nervous or worried. (The last time he'd seen Steve do that was the awkward Dinner, when he and Wade spoke to the them about the Divorce.) Tony is talking over Steve's head with Sam, darting between speaking to the pretty girl next to him with strawberry red pigtails and freckles. He follows Steve's sightline to the other class (go figure) where... James is sitting on the bleachers holding an icepack to his left arm, brows furrowed, and cheeks tinged crimson. His uncle is beside him, patting his back, speaking lowly, with all of his attention focused on the boy. Peter is about to walk over to see if James is alright. Then Natasha screams, "Daddypool!"

She pulls her hand out of Peter's grasp and dashes across the gym towards Wade, who stands then crouches, arms spread wide, to receive Natasha's speedy run. He catches her, throwing her up a few inches into the air, catching and hugging her tight. Natasha giggles and laughs, taking and giving many kisses, talking a mile a minute about everything. Undoubtedly running out of breath. She demands down to demonstrate what she's learned in class today, then climbs her father to perch over his shoulders. Then Wade's eyes land on Peter, face breaking out into as wide a grin as he'd had with Natasha. Peter decides to walk over, since the many moms are giving Wade _a lot_ of attention. (It does _not_ bother Peter.)

He does have to smile at Natasha, hugging Wade's head with both arms, her cheek rubbing against skin while mumbling about something he can't hear.

"Hi," Peter offers.

"Hi, Peter."

Peter looks up into his ex-husband's face, briefly forgetting that they're no longer together. Wade would've pulled him in for a quick kiss, rubbing a hand through the shorter strands of hair at his nape, whispering that he's missed him, even though they'd seen each other eight hours ago. Now Wade stands there with Natasha over him, his hands loosely wrapped around her knees. But his eyes don't waver, staring straight down into Peter's.

"Uh, so--"

But the moment is lost, the classes over. Everyone is rushing to grab their kids and be on their way. Peter and Wade sort of just stand there awkwardly, too noisy to have any kind of conversation. Steve saunters over, pouting. He thrusts his bag at Peter and leans into Wade's space for a hug. Natasha climbs down at the promise of dinner. Wade hefts Steve up, holding him with Steve's arms around his neck, like he weighs nothing still. (Peter can lift him if he absolutely has to. He is heavy for such a skinny child.) Steve is whispering to Wade (Peter can guess what it's about). Wade is making noises that he's listening, asking a question here and there. The difference is that he's one hundred percent absorbed in the conversation with Steve, facing the wall instead of Peter.

Peter knows what a wonderful father Wade is and can be. If only he can stop working and make time for the children.

Peter turns when his senses tingle at someone approaching them. He isn't surprised to find James and Eddie. Peter crouches to meet James' height.

"Oh, no, what happened?"

James is pouting as much as Steve is and won't answer. Eddie says, "He just got banged up some during a sparring match."

Peter checks over the battle wound at his arm, a big bruise, no fracture or sprain. Nat leans heavily on Peter's side, bright greens eyes glaring daggers at James and Eddie.

"It looks like you'll just have a bruise for a while. Are you hurt anywhere else, James?"

James shakes his head.

Peter hadn't seen the spar, so he doesn't know where else he'd been hit, so he checks over the boy's head, the other arm, his tummy and legs. Other than being splotchy from the 'accident', he looks fine. But he's no expert.

Eddie, as if reading his mind, supplies, "I've already called Buck's doctor. He had an open slot so we're going to get everything checked out."

Peter stands. "Yeah, that's good."

"He'll probably say everything looks good and recommend a few children's Tylenol, right?"

Peter smiles. "Probably."

"So, um," Eddie says, a hand rubbing at the back of his head, "I'm sort of new in town. Transferred in from San Francisco."

"Oh? What do you do?"

"Got a job at the _Daily Bugle_. I'm a journalist."

"Really? I write for them, sometimes. A few science articles here and there on their website."

"Small world, huh?" Eddie smiles at him again. Peter feels his cheeks reddening.

"Are you going to live with James' family?"

"I've become his legal guardian."

Peter raises his brows.

"My brother-in-law is leaving for another city again and needed to move the family _again_. But Bucky was adamant on staying here. He even threatened to run away." Eddie whispers the last sentence to him.

"Oh, that, that's... terrible, I didn't know..."

"It just worked out. I wanted a new job, maybe be in a new city, too. I get free rent, living in their house, and James can stay here, without having to move again or start in another school again."

Peter beams at that. "That's so kind of you."

"Nah. It's been hard on them all since my sister passed away. I would always love to help them out."

Peter has momentarily forgotten his daughter, clinging to his leg and fidgeting, listening intently on their conversation.

"So, like I was saying, I'm new in town. Sort of new on this parenting thing. I was wondering, since Buck and Steve are such good friends, I could, er, we could, I don't know, do something? Wait, I didn't mean it like _that_. I meant, like, weekend kids activity, or something. Not a date or anything. Since you're not single and I would _never_ \--"

"I am. He's my ex-husband."

Eddie's eyes and body softens even farther.

"Oh, ah, that's... yeah. Um..."

"Maybe you can join us for dinner? Hi, Wade Wilson, father of Steve and Nat."

Peter groans to himself.

"Hi. I'm Eddie."

"Well?"

"Hmm?"

"Dinner?"

Eddie looks like he's considering it for a second.

"Oh, uh, thanks but I have to get Bucky to the doctors'."

"No prob. We'll be seeing you often, I gather?"

Peter jumps in. "At school and stuff. Steve and James have a lot of afternoon activities together. And Tony and Sam, and a bunch of other kids from school. You know."

"Of course," Eddie nods. "I want to be there as much as I can for a lot of Bucky's stuff."

Peter does _not_ melt at the sentiment in that voice.

"I'll take you up on your offer next time?" He looks at Peter.

"Sure," Peter answers.

"We should get going now."

"Wait!" James speaks up. His voice hoarse like he'd been biting back tears. "Can I talk to Steve please?"

Steve, who'd had his face buried at Wade's neck the entire time, looks up and jumps down. He goes to face James, face stern and defiant, looking up at his friend. James fidgets a little, twisting the plastic of the ice pack in his hand.

"Go on, Buck," Eddie encourages. They must have practiced this at home.

"Steve," James starts. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry that I said what I said. I was... Um... My dad said that we had to move again, and I was sad, and I didn't want to make you sad, so I thought if I made you mad then you wouldn't be sad if I moved away. But I didn't mean any of it. Because you're my _best_ friend. And Uncle Eddie is going to live with me, so I can stay here until we graduate _high school_ , and my dad was okay with that, too. And I want to marry you for _real_ when we're older."

Peter wishes he's captured this on video to show both of them when they're older. He looks at Wade, who's had the same idea, and is holding his phone up at them already with a smirk.

"I'm sorry, too. You're my best friend, too! I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Can we sit at lunch together again? I don't like sitting with Alex and his friends. They're mean sometimes."

"Yeah! I mean, that's cool."

Peter can't help the guffaw that escapes at Steve 'playing it cool' in the end.

"Okay. I have to go see Dr. Bruce now."

"Is your arm hurting bad?" Steve tentatively pokes at the red spot on James' arm.

"Nah. Just a bruise." James shrugs.

The kids part with a promise to see each other at school. James leaves with his uncle, who turns and glance back at Peter just once before disappearing out the gym.

"Oh my god, you big flirt." Wade says to him.

"I wasn't flirting. He's... My in-law."

"What?"

Peter doesn't answer, just pointing out the obvious. Steve. Grinning happily up at them.

"I'm going to marry Bucky when I'm older!"

Wade doesn't miss a beat.

"Okay, slugger. I guess I have to bring out the ladies and have 'the talk' with Buckaroo now, don't I."

"Daddy, I'm the boy."

"Yes, you are. But you're _my_ baby boy, so if I say I'm going to threaten his future husband bodily injuries, then I can most certainly do that."

"Ugh, let's wait another decade for that. Or two." Peter hoists up Natasha, bored and cranky after all of that. "Where should we go for dinner, pumpkin?"

"Pas-ghetti."

Peter smiles and kisses Natasha's cheek.

"With meatballs?"

"Is there any other kind?"

Peter is so happy that the kids inherited Wade's ability to talk.

 

\---

 

 

[No matter what the weather is like on a given day, even if blood rains down from the skies, I promise you, Peter Parker...]

 

Peter never thought that he would be able to marry, no, even date, a man like Wade Wilson. He was in the middle of sophomore year at college when he met the guy. Because a woman like Mary-Jane can persuade and instill fear into a guy like Peter Parker, into signing up to be a _tour-guide_ for visiting high-school kids and their parents. Because Mary-Jane told him that he's got 'that look' which parents adore, arguing, "They love that a geeky, harmless guy like you who's double majoring in Physics and Teaching goes here. Parents will see the smart guy and will want their kids to go here. Kids will think you're either really cool or that they can be cooler than the guy who gave them a tour of the school. This is a _business_ , Parker. Enroll as many kids in school as possible and get that money!" But of course, Peter agreed. The gig paid the same minimum wage as the job cleaning up lab or the library, except that it let him talk and walk and show people around. One great thing about the job was that he got to move into a new dorm room, a single, as a stop during the tour for the parents and potential students to get an idea of. It was great because his roommate was sort of a creeper and Peter was spending most of his time in Mary-Jane's room or the library until it closed.

It was spring semester. Still in the frosty month of February. The groups were smaller but the Advisor in charge of the school tour reiterated the importance of the spring semester groups because students had either applied early or getting close to that month where they would apply. It was a Tuesday. Peter had spent the morning at Physics 235 lecture and language lab, grabbing an early lunch at a food truck to eat in one of the building's open first floor. He liked the business school building because it was newly renovated, clean, and the entire first floor had tables and couches set up for any student or faculty to use freely. It was fairly crowded when he got there. He found a table to the side and sat down, pulling out his laptop to go over some stuff while stuffing his face.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Peter looked up. With his mouth full of chicken and rice, all he could do was nod. The man was a little older, tall (maybe four or five inches on Peter), wide shoulders and thick hoodie thrown low over his head. Maybe he was a senior or a graduate student, Peter guessed. The man had no school things, not even a bag or a pen. He plopped down in an empty chair and started fidgeting with his phone. Peter liked to be friendly, like a friendly neighborhood... college student. He chewed his mouthful and swallowed, then wiped his mouth with the end of his sleeve.

"Hi, I'm Peter."

The man looked at him. Peter noticed the huge scarring on his face, the kind that happens with severe burn. It didn't bother him, but the man noticed him looking and turned his face to the side. Peter did see the sharp, sky-blue eyes though.

"Wade Wilson."

Peter beamed. "Cool. I always like meeting people whose names are alliterations. Mine is Peter Parker. Though my middle name is Benjamin, so it doesn't work when I say my full name."

"Winston."

"That's awesome. Nice to meet you, Wade Winston Wilson."

Peter shrugged when Wade didn't say anything else, going back to his food and looking through his Physics notes. It reminded him that he had to hand in a lab worksheet by the end of the day. He groaned loudly, digging through his back for the lab book. It was a brutal lab. He had no idea how he forgot about it.

"Oh my god."

He felt Wade's eyes on him.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Well, yeah. Well. No. I just forgot that I have a lab to hand in by the end of the day. Crap."

"It's only... 10:47. You've still got plenty of time."

"Yeah, I mean, no, you're right. But I've got work in like thirty minutes for three hours. And I have an afternoon class. Crap. Crap."

Peter was no longer hungry, pushing the food container to the side and spreading out the books. Wade leaned a bit closer.

"Physics?"

"Yeah. I major in Physics. And Teaching. I guess I want to be a Physics teacher? Well, not really, but my aunt suggested that I get a teaching degree as a fallback and it sounded reasonable at the time."

Peter opened the online lab in a new tab. Thank god for electronic labs. He glanced at Wade, who was studying him with a small smirk on his face. He was so attractive that Peter momentarily forgot what he was supposed to do. Oh my god, what was wrong with him? He felt his face going crimson as he averted his gaze back down to his textbook.

He looked up again. Wade was chuckling. His face felt hotter. What?

"You're really adorable, Peter Benjamin Parker."

Peter gulped, unsure how to respond to that. Was Wade really flirting with him?

"I hope to see you around, yeah?"

"Oh, sure. Uh... Yeah. Yes."

"I've got a thing, so I have to go but I'm sure we'll run into each other."

"Yes. Yeah."

His heart was thumping hard. He had _never_ felt like this before. Yeah, he had a crush on Gwen all through high school (which ended with the big friend-zone-speech but she became one of his best friends so that was totally okay) but it never felt like this. He didn't get a single question finished when he shook himself out of the daze Wade elevated him up to. He packed up everything and had to walk very briskly to get to the Advisor's office to meet the tour group.

He got there with a few minutes to spare. He stuffed his heavy bookbag into the Advisor's closet, grabbing the standard clipboard and his badge. There were pamphlets to give out to each person, prefilled with his name and cellphone number just in case anyone got lost during the tour (that way no one threw it out until the end of the tour at least), then checked his pocket for his cellphone, keys and wallet containing his student ID to be let into buildings. Getting ready for work helped him calm down and he was breathing normally again. He stepped out of the room with the Advisor who gave an introduction speech to the group. Peter belatedly remembered that he may have left his dirty laundry out this morning before rushing to class. After grabbing a drink of water from the fountain, he was ready. He joined the group just as the Advisor was wrapping up her speech. There were about twenty students and parents standing about.

"And right on time. Here's your tour guide for the day."

"Thank you," Peter started congenially. "Hi everyone! My name is Peter and I'll be your guide. I have some standard pamphlets for you guys. (He handed out the stack.) It's got the introduction and a map of the school. Most importantly, it's got my cellphone number just in case you get separated."

Some of the parents commented how smart that was. Peter smiled widely.

"So, short introduction. I'm a sophomore here at ESU. I'm majoring in Physics and Teaching. I'm a part of a few clubs at school, like rock-climbing and astrology, but there are clubs that are actually really much cooler than that at ESU."

Everyone chuckled at that.

"But enough about me. You guys are here to witness the awesomeness of ESU first-hand. We won't tour this building because it's all the boring stuff like advisors' offices, department offices, the health admin, dean's office, and financial aid. All the boring stuff are right here."

Some parents jotted down notes about that.

"Our first stop is right next door, the Osborn Hall. It's connected on the first floor, so we don't have to brace ourselves for the cold just yet. But first, maybe we can go around saying our names and maybe what department you're most interested in, so I can try to fit in a little extra for those? Also, I have to check your names on my list."

Peter went through each person, the parents usually having a bit more to say. Most were interested in the business department, which wasn't surprising with the school's reputation and location in Manhattan. A few wanted to check out the science labs, much to Peter's delight. When he got to the last person, almost hidden in the background, Peter froze.

"I'm Wade Wilson. I'm probably going to get a history degree."

Everyone was gaping at his exposed face, a few shifting away slightly. Peter watched Wade, who took a deep breath and stood tall.

"Uh, yeah, so this," Wade pointed at his face, "Happened overseas. Second campaign."

"Army?" A dad asked. He sounded a bit proud.

"Yeah. Um, Special Forces."

Wade didn't elaborate on the injury but shook hands with a few parents who gave thanks for serving the country. The kids seemed like they wanted to stay away. Peter became nervous. He did check off Wade's name in his list, making a note of absentees as everyone got ready to go.

The tour was easy. The weather clear and the high sun bright all afternoon. Even though Peter embarrassed himself with the state of his room (the dirty laundry and the empty cans of Red Bull on his desk, and Wade smiling at all of that), the tour came to an end soon enough. He gave away his school email address for any further questions or information he can provide himself or direct them to whomever can help better than he could. He sent everyone off with a big wave, letting himself sigh heavily when he was no longer in view of them.

"You were terrific."

Peter yipped and jumped.

"Holy crap."

Wade seemed to find everything about him amusing.

"I thought you left."

"I was looking at the bulletin over there."

Peter glanced towards the huge bulletin where students pinned up a lot of stuff. Parties to book sales to carpools.

"Oh. Uh. I'm glad you liked the tour...?"

"Actually, I had some questions."

"Sure!" Peter was ready for questions about the school.

"Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend, and can I ask you to grab a coffee with me?"

Peter's jaw dropped. He stood stupefied. An incredibly attractive older man was asking him to have coffee. Peter was freaking out.

"Uh, oh, yes. No. I meant!" He shook his head. "Reverse that. No. And yes. Wait, no! Ugh, I have to finish my lab."

"Ah, that's right."

"But I want to. I really do."

Wade's eyes were glittering.

"Okay. I can... Maybe call you?"

"Yes. Should I... Do you want me number?"

Wade pulled out the school pamphlet with his number.

"You really shouldn't give out your number so easily."

"It's okay. I mean... It's not like any one called me or... asked me to coffee...?"

"No one? Really?"

"No...?"

"I am having a hard time believing that. You're... Really..."

Peter waited nervously.

And Wade smiled at him.

"I feel like you'll be the father to my children one day."

 

Peter didn't fall in love right then and there. It took a while. There were happy moments and there were moments screaming bloody murder. Wade was different (a good different) once he got to know him. Funny, sarcastic, cracking crude jokes. But he was so intelligent and loving when it came to Peter. And maybe, yeah, after the first meeting, after the first 'real' date, Peter knew that they'll be together and maybe they'll even start a family one day as well.

He never guessed that it would end one day, so abruptly, and that he would end up a single parent to two wonderful, beautiful children, without Wade constantly in his life. That Wade would break his heart like that.

 

 

\--- 

 

 

Peter survives dinner as best as he can. The kids enjoy themselves greatly, Steve having regained his happy self after the talk to James, and Natasha getting to spend time with Wade. Wade, too, looks happy, going back and forth between the kids, keeping up with their conversation that don’t make sense to Peter. Peter can actually enjoy the food, without having to keep his head and eyes on both the kids for spills or anything else that might happen to them all throughout a meal. He’s contemplating on the leftover on his plate, at a point where he’s almost full, thinking about the dessert menu, when his phone alerts him of a message. It’s from an unknown number, so he warily opens it.

‘Hi. This is Eddie Brock. Buck wanted to let Steve know that the doctor says his arm is fine, just bruised. He gave me your number to text you. Hope that was okay.’

Peter doesn’t know what the feeling is he’s having. He’s staring at his screen for too long and Wade is looking at him with a bit of worry. He types back, ‘Thanks for updating us. We’re glad James isn’t hurt badly.’ He replies and then saves the number to his contact because it’s his son’s best friend’s guardian and he’ll surely need to contact him sometimes. He doesn’t get another message, so he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Everything okay, Pete?”

“Yeah. Um…” Peter turns to his son. “Steve, honey, that was James’ uncle.”

“Is he okay, Dad?” His eyes get larger.

“Yes. James’ doctor said his arm is going to just fine. It’ll still be bruised.”

Steve looks relieved. Peter avoids Wade’s searching gaze.

“So, should we order some dessert?”

Peter changes the subject. The waiter comes around with the dessert menus and some containers to take away the leftovers. Natasha asks Wade to read each item on the menu for her, asking questions about each item. Wade happily obliges, commenting on how delicious each one may be, helping her narrow down the menu. Steve studies the options but ends up choosing the chocolate fudge cake, like Peter thought he would. Peter indulges and orders the key-lime pie with a cup of tea. Wade orders the strawberry shortcake to meet Natasha’s demand while she asks for the caramel drizzle vanilla cheesecake, smiling cutely at the waiter. Peter ducks his head to keep his smile to himself.

Of course, when the four plates arrive they push them to the center so that Natasha can taste test all of them. Steve doesn’t touch the strawberry but eats more than half of the key-lime pie. Peter doesn’t mind at all, sipping his tea instead. Steve goes on about the math quiz they took in class and how Tony is really smart with math and science. Steve casually mentions that he got nine out of ten, which makes Peter happy. He asks about his other subjects. Steve talks as he chews through the cakes. Natasha has climbed into Wade’s lap, nuzzling against him as he rubs her full belly, going into a food coma.

Wade and Peter split the bill. Wade carries Natasha easily with one arm supporting her bottom. Steve climbs into the sedan, belting in. Wade situates Natasha into the car seat with ease, kissing her forehead and temple, brushing her curls back. Before he can look in on Steve, Peter finds himself suggesting, “Do you want to… Um… Tuck her in? She’s been asking… I’m sure you’re busy but—”

“I would love that, Peter.”

Peter turns his head to hide his blush.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And… You’re welcome any time to see the kids, you know that, right?”

“Yeah. I’m just… This case is…”

“I get it. It’s none of my business. The kids miss you so…”

Wade looks up into the dark sky. He breathes out.

“Yeah. Okay. Uh… I’ll follow you. Your car.”

Peter nods, climbing into the driver’s seat. He tells Steve that Wade will be coming over to the house for the rest of the night. Steve smiles brightly at that, and waves at his Dad. Wade grins back.

Natasha startles awake when Peter parks the car in the driveway. She sleepily announces that she isn’t tired.

“Even if Daddypool tucks you in?”

Natasha brightens, looking around outside. Wade has parked his car down the street, walking up to their house.

Steve and Peter settle in the kitchen table to finish their homework and grading. Wade and Natasha are on the living room couch, watching the Discovery Channel. Steve asks for help when he needs it, but mostly works on his homework sheets. Peter goes through the grading fairly quickly then works on the lesson plans for the rest of the week. It’s something he does during his lunch break, because by this time every night is Natasha’s bedtime routine. When Natasha is asleep, it’s Steve’s bedtime, and after that, he’s too exhausted to go back to working, catching an episode of a show on Netflix before conking out in his bed.

“Daddy, Daddy,” Natasha is pounding her little fist into Wade’s chest.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“It’s a Thursday, and Thursday nights I have a bath.”

Peter is surprised and amused because she hates bath time.

“Do you want to take a bath now?”

“Yes, Daddy. Use the _pink_ shampoo. And I need my _duckies_.”

“Of course. Duckies’ attendance are mandatory during all bath times.”

“What’s manda-tory?”

Peter watches Natasha drag Wade up the stairs. There are the usual noises of the pipes and usual spots on the floor creaking. Natasha’s laughter flow out and down. It feels like how it used to be. Like when Steve was four and Wade would take care of the bedtime routine for their son as Peter caught up on work or cleaned up the first floor. When they had shared everything. When they still loved each other.

Steve finishes up his reading and spelling, putting his things away.

“Dad, you have to sign this.”

Peter goes through the parent folder, signing appropriate pages and checking the calendar.

“Oh, a field trip next week. Where are you guys going?”

“We’re going to the… Arbo… Arbora—”

“ _Arboretum_.”

“Yeah. That. We are going to tour and then we get to draw! Daddy, can I take my colored pencils?”

“Of course, honey. You should take the good sketchbook that May got you for Christmas.”

“Yeah! Um… You wouldn’t be able to go, right?”

Peter looks down at his neatly organized schedule book. That day, there is a big test in the AP Physics class and an important lab in the chemistry class that he’d rather not miss. He would love to accompany his children on field trips and do more for them. But he is a single, working-parent. Sure, Wade deposits a check into his bank account every month as child support, so he isn’t financially struggling. It isn’t enough though, and he likes having a job that he’s become passionate about, responsible for. He has made an obligation to this job, so he’ll do his best at it. Single parenting certainly has not been planned, but he’s making it work. If it means he has to sacrifice accompanying his kids to some school trips, that’s what has to happens. He attends all the school plays, the recitals, the parent-teacher conferences (forcing Johnny to babysit). It’s better than what Wade’s been doing all through Steve’s first year of school. So…

“Sorry, honey.” Peter apologizes to his son.

“That’s okay. I know you have to work.”

Peter loves his son, only seven years old, but so mature and understanding. He’s about to try to voice his appreciation when Wade comes down the stairs, his light gray shirt soaking wet, tie stuffed into his pocket. Even his trousers have wet spots. Peter laughs at the sight of him. He internally appreciates Wade’s physique, clearly outlined under the wet work shirt.

“Daddy, can I have my water cup?”

Natasha has materialized in front of him in her blue nightgown, her hair still damp.

“Sure, honey.”

Peter grabs her sippy cup, filling it with drinking water for her to take to bed. He helps Steve get his bag all packed for Friday, making sure he has his gym clothes. Steve goes up to get ready for bed, running away from Wade’s wet hug, giggling. Natasha follows him up.

“Peter, something wrong?”

Peter will never understand how Wade just knows these things.

“Oh, uh…” And there is no use in lying. He can’t, even over the phone. Maybe that’s why Wade is such a great lawyer? “Steve asked me if I’d be able chaperone his school trip.”

“When is it?”

“Next Friday.”

“I can do it.”

Peter raises a suspicious eyebrow.

“What is up with all your free time? Did you get fired or something?”

Wade sighs. He follows Peter up the stairs.

“Just want to spend some more time with the kids. And whenever I’m over, Natasha gets all of my attention. I thought it would be nice to get some time with my first-born.”

“Oh.” Peter regrets what he’s said now. But shoots Wade a big glare at the state of the bathroom. “If you’re serious, I’ll let Steve’s teachers know you’ll volunteer. And I’ll email you the details.”

“Great!”

Peter turns away abruptly at Wade’s wide smile to hide his blush. And his still perfectly sculpted body.

“Do you want some dry clothes?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Wade stands at the doorway to the bedroom they used to share. Peter still has some of Wade’s old tee shirts that he wears to sleep and sweatpants he might fit into.

“Daddypool! You have to read to me now or I can’t sleep!” Natasha shouts from her room.

Peter hands Wade the dry clothes and leaves him to change. He looks in on Natasha. “Daddy is changing into some dry clothes. Why don’t you pick out the books you want him to read to you?”

Natasha jumps at that to sort through her stack of books.

 “Tell him to hurry, please!”

“Of course, honey.”

“Wade, Nat—”

Peter halts at the open door of his bedroom. Wade has changed in the sweatpants but no shirt yet. Peter gets a great view of that wide, muscular back that shapes down to the curvy ass. Peter gulps. Wade turns.

“Sorry. Seriously soaked. Maybe I need a towel.”

Peter is planted to the spot though. Wade turns. And Peter sees. Wade still wears the dog-tag around his neck, one of his Army pal Logan, who was killed in action. (Peter still has Wade’s. It’s tucked into the secret box of hidden secret things in his sock drawer.) And his wedding ring, on the same chain. (Peter’s ring is in that box as well.)

“Or not. I’m mostly dry now.”

Wade pulls on the old tee shirt.

“Uh… I… Um…”

“Daddy!”

“Yes, pumpkin.” Wade answers. He squeezes Peter’s arm on his way out of the bedroom, heading into Natasha’s.

Peter finds himself leaning against the wall next to her room’s door, listening to Wade read each word carefully, acting out each character’s voices, and answering all of Natasha’s questions. She becomes silent by the third book. Wade dutifully finishes reading the third book. There’s sounds of Natasha being tucked into her bedding, then the lights turning off.

“Dream something wonderful, honey.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Will you be here in the morning?”

Peter feels his heart constricting. He imagines Wade’s is as well.

“I’ll be gone in the morning.”

“Why can’t you stay? We’re family.”

Wade doesn’t answer. Probably doesn’t know how to answer. He says, “I love you, Natasha. We’ll always be family.”

“Wha’bout Steve?”

“Steve, too. I love Steve.”

“Wha’… Dad…?”

“I’ll always love you guys. All of you. Can you try to go to sleep now, sweetheart?”

“Mwa…”

Peter escapes into his bedroom. He sits at the edge of the bed, gripping the comforter. Wade shuffles around in the hall, probably cleaning up the bath time mess. He hears him enter Steve’s room and low-voiced talking. Soon the lights go off and Peter finds he’s waiting for Wade. For what? For him to leave again. For him to… To…

“Peter.” Wade calls him quietly from the doorway. It would be so easy to get up, to wrap his arms around him, to pull his face down and meet his lips for a long, deep kiss. For Wade to hoist him up as easily as with one of their children, to press him back against the wall and kiss him just as enthusiastically. But Wade doesn’t move. Peter doesn’t either.

“Are the kids asleep?”

“Yeah. I’m going to head out. I just need to grab my clothes.”

“I can wash them for you. I… Have a load to wash tonight… I can… If you want.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thank you. I’ll get my phone and keys though.”

Wade finds his wallet, phone and keys from his trousers and leaves them thrown over the armchair, like they’ve always done. The armchair is the only thing that’s made it here to their house after moving five times from apartment to apartment. It doesn’t go with the furniture in the living room and it’s more sentimental than functional, so it remains in the corner of the room. Things in Peter’s life all have history with Wade. Like the armchair, the too big tee shirts he can’t sleep without, the rings…

“I’ll let myself out. Good night, Peter.”

“It’s cold outside… And um…”

“Yeah…?”

“Nothing. Nothing…” Peter looks down at his lap. “Good night.”

It _still_ hurts to watch Wade walk out of their house. So, he doesn’t.

 

 

\--- 

  

  

Friday contains the general atmosphere of TGIF excitement from all the kids and faculty at school. Peter drops his children off at their school’s morning program as usual. They are in good moods after Thursday evening. Natasha only mentions “Daddypool” once, before Peter distracts her about the birthday party they’ll have at her pre-school program today for three children. She’s raving about cupcakes and snacks and the games she’ll get to play with all of her friends. She wants to get Clint and Scott to be her friends, too, today. Her determination puts Peter in a good mood. Steve plays the stoic older brother, and teases her about the things she says, but it’s not enough to make her surly. Peter leaves after reminding both of them to have a good day.

When he gets to the high school, where the teachers are busy trying to get the morning started and the students who are already there are creating a sort of chaotic rambunctiousness to plan out their weekends with friends, only makes Peter happy. The day starts easy. Nothing goes wrong during the labs, and even the test he's planned for his AP Physics class goes smoothly. His students are happy that there are no extra assignments over the weekend. After the final bell, he packs up his stuff and waits around for any students that might want to stop in for extra help. But the hallway gets quiet very quickly, everyone having rushed out to get started on the weekend. Peter can't help but agree, as he locks his classroom door behind him.

Even the drive to the elementary school is easy. He finds a parking space and heads in to pick up Natasha first. There are few parents waiting in the hallway, whom Peter greet. Most of the moms don't mind Peter, and even start conversations with him about high school and college, having found out that he'd gotten his master’s at ESU. It's the dads that are sometimes uncomfortable around him; about him and Wade, specifically. Peter has decided a while ago that he's not going to care about people's opinions about his personal relationship, unless it affects his children in any way. The kids though, Steve and Natasha's friends, and even his students, don't see a difference other than that they've got two dads, while they have a mom and a dad. A lot of his own students think it's rather cool that their teacher is openly gay and is (was) in a committed relationship.

Peter peeks in through the window of the pre-school classroom. The kids are sitting on the carpet with one of their teachers, all attention on the picture book being read to them. He finds little Natasha, still wearing her party hat from the class's birthday celebration. Wanda is next to her, an identical hat perched on her head, the little girls holding hands. Her twin Pietro is fidgeting beside her. On Natasha's other side are two boys. Peter can only see the backs of their heads, one towheaded and other dark brown. Judging by the way they're sitting very close together, as kids seem to do, grouping off, Peter guesses they must be Clint and Scott. The story ends, and the kids become alive again, in all their energy and curiosity. The teachers help each one to pack up their schoolbags and bundle up in their winter coats, letting each parent come in to pick up their child.

Peter goes unnoticed by Natasha who is bouncing around talking to her friends. When Natasha finally looks up, she shrieks and runs full speed towards him. Peter catches her (though he can't throw her in the air like Wade so easily does) and gives her a kiss on her round cheek.

"Hi, Honey. Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yes, Daddy! Daddy meet my friends!" She pulls his hand to get him going. Peter crouches down in front of the children. "This is my Daddy. My Daddy is a science teacher at the high school."

"Wow!" The dark headed boy exclaims. "I love science."

"Daddy. This is Scott," Natasha points to the boy who is now staring at Peter with his mouth open wide. "This is Wanda and Pietro."

"Hi, Mr. Parker-Wilson," Wanda chirps.

"Daddy, and this is Clint. We're friends!"

"Hi guys," Peter greets them with a smile. Natasha looks so happy that he can't help but smile with her.

Soon, Mrs. Maximoff comes to pick up her children. She doesn't speak English too well yet, but Peter gets along with her. She's often exhausted from keeping up with her twins, one who's very shy and quiet, hiding in small spaces easily, and the other quick and hyperactive, always running into trouble. Peter helps her by catching Pietro by the middle, zipping up his coat for him, finding his other shoe which got lost before story time. Pietro tells him a story about the monster in the vent who steals the children's shoes and how his shoe must have been stolen. He laughs along, and then thanks the teacher who finds it for him. The twins leave with their mother. Peter goes back to Natasha.

Natasha, who's got her arms crossed, her cheeks puffed and tears welling in her eyes.

"Honey, what happened?" Peter kneels next to her.

She begins to wail, burying her face in his neck. Scott has a shocked expression on his face. Clint's looking down at his feet.

"Natasha?"

One of her teachers comes up to them, concerned as well, but she doesn't know what happened either. Peter stands, hugging her close to him, and gathers her coat and schoolbag with is free hand. Peter assures the teacher that he'll find out what happened, and not to worry. She doesn't stop crying when they're out of the classroom, soaking the collar of his shirt, clinging his neck hard. Peter rocks her back and forth, trying to calm her down. Other parents look at him in sympathy, knowing full well how a tantrum can go. Scott comes out of the classroom with his mom, who pats Natasha's foot gently, saying bye to her. Scott's mom is a nice woman, who expresses her concern about Natasha. Peter notices Clint, who emerges from the classroom with a woman (who looks nothing like Clint), glancing at his crying child and then leaving the building with his head down.

"Hey, Dad," Steve comes up to them suddenly. "Aww, what happened, Nat?"

Natasha doesn't acknowledge her brother although she stops sobbing into Peter's ear. She refuses to come down, though, so Peter hands Steve her bag and wraps her coat over her small body.

"See you Monday, Natasha! Let's play again." Scott says to her.

"Okay. Bye, Scott," she says to the boy, lifting her head slightly and waving at him. Peter only guesses that Scott isn't the one who offended her. He sighs internally, saying goodbye to Scott and his mom. They head out to the parking lot. Peter, so concerned with his daughter, he almost misses the man standing by his car with James. Peter doesn't know how to react when he does see Eddie and James. Steve joins his friend, shrugging when he asks what happened to his sister.

"Oh, no, what's the matter?" Eddie steps closer, looking down at Natasha's teary face.

Peter shakes his head. When she gets stubborn, the only person who can get her out of it is Wade. Peter contemplates on calling his ex-husband.

"I'm not sure. She was fine until her class ended." Peter rubs her back. "Natasha, honey, do you want to talk about what upset you?"

She stays silent. Peter braces for her to demand to talk to Wade, but she doesn't, only sniffling against his shirt sadly.

"Well, uh," Eddie starts, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not sure what your afternoon looks like, but Buck wanted to see if he could hang out with Steve. So, we were waiting, to ask."

"Oh, I..." Peter blushes. He wouldn't mind, and their afternoon is free, but he has an upset child in his arms.

"And, just to clear it up, I'm not a stalker or anything. I just... You have a sky-blue Civic. It was the only one in the lot. And Bucky pointed out the Einstein sticker on your back windshield."

Peter blushes harder. "It's usually the only sky-blue Civic in any lot." That makes Eddie smile, too. "And I wasn't thinking that you were. I'm just... Nat is..."

"Yeah. Um... We were going to maybe go to the ice cream shop a few blocks down. Buck pointed it out the other day."

"It's like, twenty degrees out." Peter says.

"Well, there's that, too." Eddie's smile falls.

"But... Um... There's a coffeeshop next to it, I think. We can go get some hot chocolate?" Peter suggests. The tiny voice inside him is screaming at him, what the hell are you doing?

"Yeah. That sounds nice. What do you think, Natasha?" Eddie bends his knees a little, going eye-level with her. "Will a hot chocolate make you feel better?"

Peter feels Natasha perk up. She nods.

"With marshmallows." She demands. Thrusting her hand forward, she says, " _Five_ marshmallows."

"You've got a deal."

  

There is one parking spot near the shop, and Eddie ends up parking a block away. Natasha has calmed down enough to walk on her own. Steve and James claim the corner booth while Eddie goes to order, and Peter takes Natasha to the bathroom to wash her face. Peter insists on paying for his half, but Eddie is just as adamant. Peter tells his inner voice that it is _not_ a date, and that someone buying him and his kids some hot chocolate is no big deal. A few cookies, too.

The boys regale their day's happening, talking over each other. Natasha remains perched on Peter's lap, sipping from her cup and taking small bites from her snack. Peter pays full attention to all the children, glancing at Eddie every now and then. James' uncle asks questions that get the boys pondering or excited. Peter imagines it’s what a good journalist would do. The boys eventually wonder off into their own world, playing a children's word game on Peter's phone. That turns Eddie's attention on Peter and Natasha, who is still quiet and upset.

"How do you feel now, honey?" Peter says to his daughter. "Does your tummy hurt?"

She shakes her head.

He looks at Eddie (and his grey? blue? eyes) to tell him, "Natasha's class had a birthday party today for three of her classmates."

"Wow, that sounds fun. Did you have cake, Natasha?"

She pouts. She replies quietly, "We had cupcakes."

"Cupcakes sound delicious, too. What kind were they?"

"Vanilla. With pink frosty."

"Did you play any games?"

Natasha finally looks up from her snack to Eddie, answering him about the games she played. Peter listens, carefully gauging her words and tone, but enjoying her interaction with an adult who are not her fathers or her teachers. She opens up a bit more, telling them about the coloring sheet they worked on in the morning, detailing which crayons were used and where. He's never had anyone else, except Wade and May, who's paid so much attention to his children like Eddie is doing at the moment. It makes his inner voice scream at him, his heart thumping too loudly in his chest, and he's pretty sure his face is crimson.

“And then… Um… Clint said…” Natasha puts her head down, pouting. Peter registers that this is the thing that has upset her. He encourages her to talk about it, gently.

“He asked me why Daddy picks me up from school. I told him I don’t have a mommy. I have two Daddies.”

“It’s okay to have two dads. It’s okay to have two moms. Or one dad. Or one mom. Or no parents.” Eddie explains in a calm voice. Peter isn’t sure how much of that registers to a four-year-old girl, who has only known him and Wade as the parental unit.

“Clint said…” Natasha breaths hard, like she’ll start sobbing again. “He said, I don’t have a mommy because she doesn’t love me.”

Peter can’t hold back a painful groan. He hugs his daughter close, as close as he can. He also doesn’t miss the way Steve looks up at that, at him and his sister.

“You know that isn’t true, Nat,” Peter says. His voice might be shaky. He hides his face in her hair. She smells like last night’s bath and cupcake frosting. “And you have me and Daddy. We love you very much.”

“But I don’t have two daddies any- _mores_. I only have _you_!” Nat starts her wailing again. No matter what Peter says, she won’t stop. It’s Eddie who suggests that they head home, which Peter agrees to quickly.

While Peter straps Natasha in her car seat, Eddie helps Steve in the other side.

James says his good bye to Steve and Natasha. “Bye Mr. Parker-Wilson.”

“Sorry we had to cut things short, James.”

“It’s cool. Little sisters,” James says and shrugs his shoulders. “Can I come over tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Dad, please?” Steve pipes up.

Peter thinks over the day’s schedule. There really isn’t much planned, other than the weekly grocery shopping trip and cleaning, laundry, making a week’s worth of meals, school work…

“Dad, please? Bucky hasn’t been over in like, two weeks.”

“Alright. If you promise to include your sister.”

James smiles, “We will! I can bring the new board game. We can play that.”

Before Steve gets too excited, Peter shuts the car door. The boys wave to each other through the glass.

“We’ve got grocery shopping to do in the morning, but James can come over any time after noon.” Peter says to Eddie.

“Oh, good. I can… I can bring some lunch?”

“Oh, no. I… I’ve got a lot to do… And…”

“We’ve not had a chance to talk. Just lunch. And I’ve got articles to work on and so on for the afternoon. It’ll be my treat, for the free time I’ll get while Bucky is at your place.”

Peter smiles. “Alright. Okay.”

“See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye.” Peter waves at them.

 

 

\---

 

 

It is a chore to drag two children through a crowded Saturday morning grocery store. Natasha acts her usual self, yesterday’s grief forgotten, and points at all the things Peter _should_ grab. Steve makes choices for himself, healthy snacks and vegetables he wants for lunch. Peter wonders how he’s ended up with a mature boy like Steve, but then he finds a box of chocolate snack packs amongst the veggies. Hoping to avoid any more disasters and Natasha losing patience, the family quickly goes through the check-out lane, packing kids and grocery in the car to head on home.

Peter situates Natasha in front of the television with her favorite movie and gummy bears she got from the store, and hauls in the bags from the car with Steve’s help. When everything is put away and the kitchen is in some semblance of an order, Peter starts the laundry, running the vacuum on the second floor, shove the first load into the dryer, finish vacuuming the first floor and the second load of laundry in the dryer. Steve, ever so helpful, folds most of the laundry for him, as he tells Peter about what he wants to do when James comes over. Peter carries the laundry up as he encourages Steve to tidy up the living room.

Peter loves his children ever so much; but Nat can get a little excited and make a mess in the living room. Today is no different, all of her stuffed animals brought down from her room to be arranged on the couch to ‘enjoy the movie with her’ and building a city with colorful blocks. Natasha complains that she doesn’t want to clean up, so he lets her be. There’s dishes to be done and more laundry.

But Peter takes a break, sitting on the kitchen table where he can be in view of the living room. Steve sits on the floor with a sketchbook and colored pencils, with Nat going back and forth among the blocks, the movie, and her brother. Steve smiles at her, tearing out a clean sheet for her to draw on, placing the pencils between them on the coffee table. Peter supposes it could be worse; he knows it could be worse. He’s grateful for his well-behaved, relatively quiet children and loves them so much for keeping each other occupied while he has work to do.

“Daddy, daddy!” Natasha shouts from the living room.

“Yes, honey?”

“Your phone rang-ed when you were in the basement.”

“Oh,” Peter gets up with a small groan to retrieve his phone from his coat pocket. “Thanks, Nat.”

“You’re welcome, Daddy!”

Peter unlocks it, thinking it’s Eddie who’d called. He’s surprised to see that it’s Wade. He is contemplating on calling back when it rings again. Groaning again, Peter hits the answer button and puts the receiver to his ear.

“Hello,” Peter says.

“Hi, Pete.”

“Hey.” Peter wonders what has made Wade call. He makes his way to the basement, pretending to check on the laundry, so the kids won’t hear.

“I was wondering if you guys had any plans for lunch?”

“Oh. Well, we’re at home…” Peter bites his lip. He knows he has to tell Wade about James and Eddie coming over. He doesn’t know what makes him hesitate.

“Great! I mean… I’m asking you, if you’re okay with it, if I can come over… Bring lunch. Play with the kids for the afternoon? I know you’re always very busy, getting ready for next week and all that.”

Peter frowns. What is going through Wade’s head? When did he become so considerate to Peter’s needs and…

“Actually, Wade, Steve’s friend, James, is coming over for lunch.”

“Oh? I can get more food…”

“His uncle is bringing lunch. You remember Eddie from Karate, right?”

Wade remains quiet.

“Steve and Nat are going to spend the afternoon with James. And I can get everything done… So… We have plans for the day.”

Peter catches himself before his voice gets too loud.

“Pete. I’m just…” Wade finally starts but cuts himself off.

“I know you want to see the kids. I know that. But you can’t just… It’s not fair to them to just pop up and… We decided to not do the whole custody thing. But they get upset when you show up out of nowhere and have to leave.”

“You’re right. How inconsiderate of me to want to see my own children.”

Peter scoffs at the sarcasm.

“That’s not at all what I mean and…! I… don’t want to fight.”

“Yeah. Hey. You should get ready for your date.”

“What the hell, Wade?”

“I’m calling it like it is. A date. Maybe it will be more convenient for you to be with someone who’s also a parent. Instead of a selfish asshole who only works all the time to try to provide for his family and…”

“I’m not going to get roped into fighting with you. It’s _not_ a date. And even if it were,” Peter pauses, rubbing the heel of his hand over one eye. “I’m a single divorcee who has every right to do whatever he wants to do, whenever with whomever. Deal with it. Good bye.”

Before Wade can say anything else, Peter hangs up the phone. Stuffs it into his pocket after silencing it.

“Daddy! The door!” Natasha announces from the top of the staircase.

“I’m coming, honey,” Peter says. He takes several deep breathes before climbing the stairs. Steve is standing eagerly by the front door, not opening it as per Peter’s strict instructions. Peter pulls the excited children aside to open the door for the guests.

“Hi,” Peter greets with a smile. “Come on in.”

The children ignore the adults as soon as they lay eyes on each other. Before James can pull his shoes off completely, Steve urges him to hurry in. James thrusts his coat at his uncle who’s only got one foot in through the door and dashes into the living room to join Steve and Natasha. There are rapid words and small feet pounding over the wood floor. Peter helps Eddie with the shopping bags in his hands, two of them containing food and one containing games and other things for James.

“I sent you a text message but there was no answer,” Eddie says while hanging up his and James’ coats on the hooks along the wall. “I feel like we’ve surprised you.”

“I was in the basement with the laundry. I must have not heard it. We were expecting you anyway.” Peter smiles again.

Eddie reciprocates it, following Peter to the kitchen. Peter glances over to the children. James is engaging with both Steve and Natasha over their drawings. Peter lets them be, starts on sweeping his work things from the kitchen table to make room.

“Sorry about the mess. It’s usually just the three of us.”

“Oh, you should see our kitchen table. I think we might have to start eating on the floor at the rate of mess we’re creating over there.”

Eddie makes Peter laugh. Peter finds it easy to make conversation, to meet the man’s soft eyes and navigate around him. Like how it used to be with Wade.

“How’s Nat, by the way?” Eddie asks, unpacking the lunch he’s brought while Peter sets the table.

“She’s her usual self. I’m afraid that it’ll come back on Monday when she sees Clint though.” Peter says in a low voice, not wanting to draw attention on that subject with the children. “We’re keeping it on the downlow as much as we can for the weekend.”

“Got it.” Eddie makes a motion of zipping up his lips. He turns the subject to what he’s brought for lunch. Salad with chicken, with the everything cut up small. There’s macaroni and cheese, still hot in the container and some brownies for snacking later.

“Looks great!” Peter tells him.

“This is the extent of my culinary skills I’m afraid. Thankfully, Bucky has very little complaints when it comes to food.”

When everything is set, Peter calls the children to lunch. The boys take their seats, eagerly reaching for the food. Peter doesn’t know if it’s because they’re very hungry or because they want to get back to playing quicker. He helps Natasha, piling on the salad and pasta on her plate. Through the meal, she demands a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead. She picks on the salad but manages to finish half her sandwich and all of the macaroni. Steve and James shovel food into their mouths, even the half peanut butter sandwiches Peter makes for them after Natasha’s.

“All done,” Steve announces, shoving his cleaned plate away.

“Me, too.” James sucks cheese off of his fingers.

“Wash your hands and faces,” Peter says to them, “And yes, you can go play now.”

Steve and James put their plates in the sink, running water over their sticky fingers and washing away crumbs from their mouths.

“Me, too, Daddy,” Natasha stands from her chair, demanding to be let down. Peter sighs internally, helping her wash her hands and face at the sink, handing a sheet of paper towel over to dry herself with.

“Dad, can we take juice and play the games Bucky brought?”

“Sure. Boxes, honey, please.”

Steve doesn’t complain, digging in the refrigerator for three juice boxes while James takes Natasha by the hand to the living room to start setting up their board game.

Peter sits back down with a groan. Eddie smiles at him.

“You’re a great dad,” he comments.

“I’ve got great kids. I had no idea what we were doing when Steve came into our lives at first though.”

Peter picks up Natasha’s plate, to finish her leftovers. The salad has gone soggy and everything is a mess, but Peter’s had worse. Eddie stares at him, as though waiting for Peter to continue.

“We had just moved into the neighborhood, me and Wade. We bought this house and I didn’t have to commute for an hour to get to the school and all that. Wade was done with law school and passed his Bar, and got a full-time job,” Peter shoves the last bite of Natasha’s leftover sandwich in his mouth. He speaks low. “Steve’s mom was a teacher I worked with while student-teaching. Sarah. She was pretty awesome. I was filling in for her while she was out for maternity leave. And then she decided to not come back, so the school gave me a job.”

Eddie’s attention doesn’t waver.

“After giving birth, Sarah fell very ill. She didn’t know where her husband was. I went over every day, to help take care of her and the baby. She passed away, when Steve was about seventeen weeks old. It was the worst phone call I ever had to… There was no one to take the baby. We had to… We wanted to. The services weren’t happy about putting an infant in the care of a gay couple, but Sarah had left a sort of will, to let us take care of Steve until they could locate the husband.”

“Did they ever…?”

“Yeah. When Steve was about two. Never came to see his own son. He basically asked where he signs to give away all parental rights. We were able to adopt him legally. That was around the time marriage became legal, too, so we’d gotten married, had a wonderful baby boy.”

“Does Steve know about his parents?”

“About Sarah, yeah. Nothing about his father, not yet, at least.”

Peter starts cleaning up, afraid to be asked about Natasha’s real parents. Because as much as he’d assured his daughter, what she’s heard about her real mother from her classmate rings too close to the truth, and it hurts him. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t inquire, cleaning up the lunch debris as Peter loads the dishwasher. Eventually he and Eddie settle at the cleared table, quietly working with laptops and shuffling of papers, with the chatter and giggles of the children as background noise. Natasha climbs onto Peter’s lap just once, feeling sleepy so close to nap time. She watches blankly at Peter’s work, growing bored by the adults and slides down her father’s lap to rejoin her brother in the living room.

Steve and James come into the kitchen a little later, asking for snacks. Natasha has fallen asleep on the couch, where Steve’s put her with her blanket and favorite doll. They eat quietly at the table, recharging their exerted energy. After snacks, they play quietly in the living room until Natasha wakes up.

At around four in the afternoon, Eddie packs up to go with reluctant James. The rest of the day, it’s relatively subdued in the house, Steve and Natasha reading and Peter finishing up the chores around the house. Peter remembers his phone while finishing up the final round of laundry. Eddie has texted him saying he’s gotten James home. He’s added that he hopes they can do this again next week. Peter replies that he’ll let him know.

Peter doesn’t get upset by the fact that there are no messages from Wade. No missed calls.

 

 

\--- 

 

    

On Monday, Peter forwards the email about Steve’s class trip to the arboretum. Wade replies his thanks and that he’ll be there for their son. Peter really hopes Wade will make it, because Steve is indescribably delighted about his father accompanying him on a trip. Natasha has come home sulky, mouth turned down. She doesn’t say what, but Peter knows it’s about Clint.

 

On Tuesday, after Karate, Peter has a mini-melt-down and texts S.O.S to Johnny and Susie. Susie promises to come over as soon as she can with her kids and Reed. Johnny picks up pizza and arrives in record time. Peter really appreciates his best friends. Johnny immediately falls into the couch with the kids, Steve under one arm, Natasha curled up on his lap. Peter appreciates the stories his best friend begins to tell the children, about his recent trips to different spots all over the world. Peter is thankful when Susie comes (sans Reed, stuck at his lab). After dinner, putting all the kids in the living room with Johnny, Susie offers Peter real advise – to talk to Clint’s parents and set up a meeting with the teachers. Peter takes action immediately, writing out an email to Natasha’s teachers, sending it upon Susie’s approval. He receives a reply quicker than he’d thought. They’d noticed Natasha’s behavior at school around Clint and had been concerned. They promise to set up a meeting with Clint’s guardians.

“Guardians?” Peter questions. Susie reads over his shoulder.

“Actually, that makes a lot of sense,” Susie nods.

“I think I need to consult Wade, too.”

Peter puts his head down on the table. He tells Susie about his argument with Wade.

“I agree completely.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter sighs. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“Now!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll call now.” Peter stands up with his phone clutched tight in his hand. He goes out to the back yard, despite the cold, because he needs room and a lot of air. The phone rings three times before Wade answers.

“Yes, Peter?”

“Could you sound any less happy?”

“How can I help you?”

Peter breathes deep. “It’s about Nat.”

“Is she okay?”

Peter can hear the panic in Wade’s voice.

“Physically, she’s fine,” Peter kicks at the frozen grass. “There was a kid in her class who made her feel bad.”

“Christ. Four-year-olds are bullying my kid?”

“Not bullying, per se. He said to her that she doesn’t have a mom because she doesn’t love her.”

Peter waits for Wade to say something.

“Her teachers are going to set up a meeting for us with the kid’s guardians. I would really _appreciate_ it if you were there.”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you—guys.”

Peter can feel the rage thrumming in Wade, even over the phone.

“I’ll let you know which night.”

“Sure.”

Peter taps his foot.

“How’s baby girl doing though?”

“She’s okay. Johnny and Sue came over with Franklin and Val, so she’s momentarily forgotten about it. They brought pizza with extra cheese, pineapples and olives.”

“Mmm. Our favorite.”

“Yeah. It’s still disgusting.”

Wade chuckles. The sound warms up his torso. Peter shivers. He needs to say it. He can’t say this to anyone else but Wade.

“You know what the worst part is?”

“That the kid is right on point about her mother? Even though we wish it weren’t?”

Peter’s mouth quivers, heart wrenching.

“Yeah,” Peter answers, throat clamped. Peter finds himself wanting Wade, to fit his body against him, to feed off of his warmth, to seek comfort and to share their terrible day that neither of them can fix or change, because it feels better just to _talk_ about it. Everyone says that kind of _want_ is normal after a divorce or break-up, having become so adjusted to being with someone for so long, having fallen in to a rhythm. But it’s been almost a year since their separation. And they hadn’t really had a relationship with _routine_ for longer than that. The feelings haven’t faded, unlike people have promised they would with time. Peter doesn’t know if he still loves Wade or if he hates him so much, if he wants to touch him, to kiss him or if he wants to punch him until his arms are noodles. He loves and hates how Wade just knows the things in his head, too.

“Can I come see them again? On Thursday?”

“Yeah.” Peter sniffs. “Of course.”

“Can we make it a thing? Thursdays?”

Peter rubs at his eyes. It will be good for the children, Peter tells himself. He doesn’t get this sudden change Wade’s been making. He misses the kids, Peter tells himself.

“Yes. Thursdays. That’s good.”

“Good. I really… I _really_ miss you guys.”

“I know.”

There is a long pause, like neither of them know what to say, how to end the call.

“I’ll let you go, Pete.”

“Okay.”

“Let me know about the meeting and… I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“K.”

“And Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about Saturday.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

He awkwardly ends the call.

 

On Wednesday, Peter and his children run into Eddie in the parking lot. His hair looks disheveled, his press badge crooked over his jacket. But he smiles at Peter and the children. Peter explains that they need to hurry to make it to Natasha’s ballet class on time. Eddie squeezes his shoulder as he passes him. Peter does _not_ dwell on that for the rest of the afternoon.

 

On Thursday, Peter forwards the email about the meeting with Natasha’s teachers and Clint’s guardians set for the evening to Wade. Apparently, Clint has been acting strange at home, too. The teachers have requested the children accompany them. The time for the meeting falls around the same time as the children’s Karate class. He can have Natasha excused for one lesson, but he doesn’t see why Steve should miss his. So, he texts everyone to see if anyone is available for emergency babysitting. Johnny is out of the country for real work with Ben, and Susie is busy with taking her kids to their afternoon lessons. Aunt May has a double shift at the hospital (again, due to the lack of staff). Everyone he can think of have plans and Peter grimaces. Scrolling through his contacts, he pulls up Eddie’s number, asking him for a favor. Eddie tells him that he would love to have Steve come over after Karate class.

After setting down the details, Peter calls Wade. He doesn’t pick up, so he phones Wade’s firm. The receptionist tells him that Wade is ‘at court’ and that he’ll relay the message to him. At the end of the final class of the day, Peter is sporting a small migraine. He hurries to pick up his children, spending a few minutes to thank Natasha’s teachers for setting up a meeting so quickly. On the drive home, Peter explains to the children (mostly Steve) about the rest of the evening. Steve says he doesn’t mind spending time at James’ after Karate. He has to assure Natasha about ten times that she is not in trouble with her teachers. She is screaming (probably scaring all of his neighbors) when Eddie comes by to pick up Steve. Steve gives his little sister a hug (which makes her a little calmer) before leaving. Peter tells his son that he’ll pick him as soon as the meeting is done. Steve waves at him.

Natasha refuses all snacks but accepts a juice box. By the time they return to school, she is too exhausted to cry or scream. She is slumped against Peter’s chest and shoulder, too tired to walk, small arms tight around Peter’s neck. Peter murmurs soft words against her hair, rocking her a bit. And then… His heart skips a beat. Wade stands by the front entrance, still in his suit and overcoat. Peter is afraid Natasha will start screaming again when she sees Wade, but she only sniffles, reaching out for her other dad. They go in together, Wade following Peter through the maze of the hallways. Peter knocks before entering the classroom.

“Oh, good, right on time,” Ms. Lucia greets them. She shakes hands with Peter and Wade. They sit and talk weather. Clint and his guardians arrive a few minutes later.

“Mr. and Mrs. Carr. These are Natasha’s parents. Peter and Wade Parker-Wilson.”

“Hi,” Peter offers, shaking their hands. Wade stays rigid, holding Natasha with both arms.

“Hello. We’re Clint’s guardians.” Mrs. Carr says. Her husband looks very uncomfortable, sitting down with a hand over Clint’s shoulder. Peter only guesses that it’s because of him and Wade and glances up at his ex-husband who seems to share the sentiment. Natasha stays in Wade’s arms, napping away. Clint, though, is staring at them with his big blue eyes, mouth gaping. Wade notices, too.

“I was in the army,” Wade tells the boy, pointing at his scars. “This happened overseas. War.”

“Oh,” Clint exclaims. He doesn’t seem scared of them. Just fascinated.

Mr. Carr clears his throat loudly, coughing. The man won’t comment on his obvious disapproval of Peter and Wade. Ms. Lucia starts the conversation though, talking about the importance of the conversation they are about to have for young children. Instead of talking about the children’s fight, she goes through explaining to Clint (and probably Natasha if she were awake) about different people in the world. Clint seems to understand, nodding and adding his own comments. Peter thinks he’s a bright little boy, reminding him a little of Steve. Natasha wiggles around in Wade’s grip. She wakes up, curling over Wade’s lap, fiddling with his tie.

Clint jumps down from his chair without prompt, crossing the small space to stand in front of Natasha.

“I’m sorry, Natasha.”

Natasha blinks widely but buries her face against her father’s shirt. Both Peter and Wade try to get Natasha to look at the boy.

Then Clint says, “My mommy died.”

Peter can’t hold back a pained groan.

“My dad hurt her and me and my brother. He got taken away by the police. You have two dads. Two nice dads.”

Peter wants to hug the little boy. Anything. Natasha finally looks at Clint.

“Can you explain to her why you said what you said, Clint?” Ms. Lucia suggests. Clint looks up at her for a moment, blinking owlishly. He meets Natasha’s eyes, cheeks red and puffed.

“All the kids get picked up by mommies. You were the only one getting picked up by a dad.”

Peter thinks, Oh.

“Do you miss your mom and dad, Clint?” Peter asks.

Clint nods. Two large tears fall from the little boy’s eyes, staining the front of his sweater.

“I’m really sorry,” Clint whimpers out. “I want to be friends with Natasha. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

To Peter’s side, Wade continues to stroke Natasha’s hair, whispering, “See, baby girl? Clint likes you. He wants to be your friend.”

A few minutes later, the kids calm down some. Tears are dried, and faces are cleaned. Natasha cracks a big smile for the first time since arriving at the school.

Clint’s foster mom suggests a play date with Natasha as they leave. Peter exchanges phone numbers, even though Mr. Carr still looks uncomfortable.

“How long have you been together?” Mrs. Carr asks.

“Since college,” Peter answers. He means to add that they are no longer together, but he doesn’t.

“Oh, that’s so nice. Good for you. It was so nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Peter says. “Good night, Clint.”

“Bye! Bye-bye, Natasha!”

“We can play together tomorrow, Clint!”

Peter packs up Natasha who is in better spirits already. Ms. Lucia looks exhausted but glad the two students have somewhat overcome their hurdles. They all walk out together, Ms. Lucia locking up the classroom door and the side entrance they use to leave the building. Natasha enthusiastically waves her teacher good night and announces how hungry she is.

“Daddypool! I’m hungry!”

“Then we need to get dinner, don’t we?” Wade hefts her up easily.

“Yes!”

“Should we go get your brother?”

Peter can’t hide his laughter at his daughter’s serious pondering. Wade is smiling, too.

Natasha shrugs indifferently. “Sure, why not.”

Natasha is kicking her feet when strapped into her car seat. Peter lets the car run, warming up the heater.

“Wade. Thank you. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done this night alone.”

“I don’t know if I did anything but… You’re welcome.”

“I mean it. It’s a lot of… It’s a lot.”

“I know. But Pete,” Wade pauses. “You’re the best dad. You really are.”

Peter’s mouth twitches.

“You’re their hero, Peter. They both tell me so. You’re raising our kids to be the best they can be. They’re happy, healthy… And you do everything you can to fix it when they’re not. Peter Parker… You’re _my_ hero.”

He can’t control his heart, his breathing. His body. His arms, wrapping around Wade’s shoulders, pulling him down. He can’t control his mouth, pressing against the familiar, scarred skin of his neck. He can’t control his mind, thinking, this is it. There is nothing else he wants. Wade’s hands are firm at his waist. Wade’s scent is still so familiar. No one else could ever take his place in his heart. Nothing will replace it. And…

He’s been waiting for Wade to stop walking away. So…

Maybe… Open the door and his heart again and… Let him in… Maybe, it’ll be better this time. Maybe, they can get it right, this time. Maybe…

 

 

\--- 

  

 

[Through all the bad days, even more on the good ones, my love for you will never diminish, Peter Parker, I swear to you, even during the moments when you don’t believe in me, I will still love you…]

 

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Wade,” Peter murmured. His throat was clogged up, ready to burst or drown. “I just can’t. Let’s stop.”

Wade had thrown his discarded tie in anger. It landed on the arm of their armchair, but it silkily slinked down to the floor.

“I work, Peter. I have cases and clients. Do you know what this case could do for millions of veterans and families? It’s going to be a landmark decision and I am _this_ close!”

“Do you know what the kids ask for every night before bed? They ask for you, Wade. This here, this is what should matter the most. This here, this _family_ , is a part of your responsibilities.”

Wade smirked at him, with those eyes that regarded Peter as small and childish.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been _knowingly_ _avoiding_ my responsibilities.”

Peter’s hands curled into tight fists. He hated when Wade used that voice at him. Like he can’t understand at all. He did understand; that was the problem here. He didn’t want to be… Taken advantage of any longer. Like this family was only second place to the job, to the cases.

Peter used the same tone, hitting back, “I can’t tell if I’m happy or upset at that. All I know is that you’ve managed to elicit a strong emotion with those two words.”

Peter turned away. He didn’t want Wade to see his tears.

“I don’t think I know who you are anymore. You’re not the man I married.”

Wade stood behind him, not answering.

“I don’t know how to get through this. I don’t want… I still love you, but I’m not happy with you. I need you to leave.”

“Fine.”

“You’re not even going to try?”

“No. Maybe we need some time. You and I are both angry. We should take some time apart.”

Peter watched Wade grab some clothes and things he would need for a few days. Wade didn’t meet his gaze once.

“What should I tell the kids?”

“Tell them I have to work.”

That wasn’t what Peter wanted to hear.

“Okay. Fine.”

Wade paused, hesitated in front of Steve’s bedroom door. He touched the knob but didn’t go in. At Natasha’s door, he leaned forward, whispering words at the door that Peter couldn’t hear. Wade didn’t say anything to him as he rushed down the stairs and quietly closed the front door behind him. Peter stayed up all night, crouched on the steps, head leaning against the banister, watching the front door, for Wade to come back to him.

 

 

\--- 

 

 

On Friday, Peter spends the afternoon with Natasha. After dropping the car off, they go for a walk. She wants to have a ‘tea party’, so Peter takes her to her favorite café, where they serve all the tea and cookies in fancy cups and saucers and tiny plates. The tea is some non-caffeinated flower tea. She is so delighted by all the pretty, fancy tea things. It begins to snow heavily, so they pack up the baked goods to go. Peter picks up rotisserie chicken from the deli on the way home, and some things they’re running low on. Natasha carefully carries the bag of baked goods in one arm, holding Peter’s hand in the other.

Natasha stands on a chair as she ‘helps’ Peter with dinner. The plastic gloves are too huge on her little hands. Peter grins at her adorable concentrating face, shredding the chicken like Peter’s showed her. She chatters on about her school day, about the fun things she got to do with her friends. She mentions Clint here and there, so Peter hopes they remain on good terms.

When dinner prep is completed, and the pan is in the oven, Peter settles on the couch with Natasha with a movie on. He divides his attention between his daughter and the weather outside. Snow has piled up significantly. Then he sees two figures walking down the street, one tall, one small. Peter hoists Natasha up to open the door for them.

“Hi, honey,” Peter says. Steve shakes the moisture from the falling snow from his head, taking his coat off. “Did you have a fun field trip?”

“Yeah!” Steve answers. He hurries inside, landing on the sofa, and digs into his backpack for his things.

“Hi Wade. Thanks for… Today.”

“No way. I… It was good.” Wade remains at the door.

“Do you… Want to stay for dinner?”

Wade’s eyes light up.

“I would like that. Thank you.”

“Hurry. You’re letting the heat out.”

Steve has a lot to say about the arboretum. The greenhouse where the kids spent most of the day sounds more exciting than Peter imagines it could be. But Steve enjoys a lot of things, finding small happiness in each small things, like spending quiet hours drawing or reading. One of the pictures he’s drawn goes up on the refrigerator. Peter takes pictures of the drawings to send to Aunt May. He goes to the kitchen when the timer goes off. Takes out the hot pan full of chili and chicken.

“That smells good.”

Peter yips, startling at the voice. He almost drops the whole thing to the ground.

“Fuuu—udge. You scared me.”

Wade hovers near.

“The last time you made this was…”

“The day Natasha came home.”

“Right.”

Peter sets the pan down on the ceramic tiled counter, to let it cool. When he turns, Wade is blocking him in to the corner of the kitchen.

“I need to apologize.”

“Wade, don’t…”

“I do. I’ve done a lot of things that merits apologies. Let me.”

Peter crosses his arms in front of his chest, leaning back against the edge of the counter.

“Tell me if I miss anything but… I’m sorry. When Nat’s… The thing with Nat’s… That case and… It made me feel so… I didn’t feel like I was doing enough. And I needed to do more. I thought doing more for other people, like me, like us, change the law and all of that, would be me protecting you, us, our family. But I lost you along the way. I didn’t have Steve. Or Nat. Even when I won the cases… I lost the people I started the battles for.”

Wade looks terrified. Peter uncrosses his arms, taking one of his hands in his, thumb stroking over the knuckles.

“I always wanted to come back. Even _that_ night. I wanted to come back.”

Peter’s heart pounds.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For hurting this family. I’m sorry about all the things I shouldn’t have said. It’ll never be enough, but I’ll make it up to you guys, I promise.”

Wade takes a deep breath, looking straight into his eyes. Wade’s warm strong hands clutch at his biceps.

“I’ll take whatever I can. One afternoon a week, field trips, recitals, whatever. And… I’m sorry about what I said to you. You should date. You’re entitled to do whatever you want. You deserve only the best things in the world.”

Peter really starts to tear up.

“I’ll even volunteer to watch the kids if you ever want to, you know.”

“Thanks.”

Peter rubs at his nose fighting the tears.

“I’ll never tell you that I’ll be very jealous of whomever you’ll date.”

Peter smiles. Wade cups his hands under Peter’s jaws, thumbs caressing his cheeks, blotting away the moisture.

“And I’ll never say, that I still love you.”

Peter chokes on a laughter.

“Never. I won’t even mean it. I still love you. I won’t ever say that I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. I won’t ever mean it when I say I never stopped being in love with you. I’m lying when I say that letting you go was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

“I don’t miss the way you say my name.”

“Peter…”

Peter gulps.

“I don’t miss you at nights. It doesn’t break my heart every moment I spend with the kids and you’re not here, to be with us.”

Wade leans in closer, his forehead and nose touching Peter’s.

“I’ll hesitate when you say you want to come back to me.”

“I want to come back to you, baby.”

“Yes. Yes, I—”

Wade’s mouth covers his hastily. Peter opens his lips to the familiarity to—

“EWWW! Steve! Daddy is _kissing_ daddy! In the _kitchen_!”

Wade falls away. Peter laughs along with him.

“We should get dinner started,” Peter says, poking at Wade’s chest to make him move.

“I’ll set the table.”

“Sounds good. Sounds perfect.”

 

 

Close enough to it. That’s enough.


End file.
